Dead Gone
by Lilies of Avonlea
Summary: Gilbert Blythe is dead gone on Anne Shirley.


I always thought that to be enemies it had to be a mutual hate for each other. Not so. I still

remember the first day I met her. She stood in front of the class as Mr. Phillips introduced her. Anne Shirley. She had bright red hair pulled back in braided pigtails revealing a young, pale, freckled face. Compared to the other girls in our town she was not by any standards beautiful. Except for one set. Mine. Even back then I thought she was beautiful. (Of course being sixteen I only said she was cute.) The way she held her chin as she looked at her new classmates. . .it did not take a genius to realize how confident and smart she was. My heart began to pound with the nervousness of a schoolboy crush as she took her seat beside Diana Barry.

Mr. Phillips went to work with "his Queens student" and as per usual, we did not work on our class work as assigned. I watched as she read a book. She looked so peaceful, so into her book. She thoughtfully twirled some spare strands of hair. I knew I made a spectacle of myself the way I dreamily watched her, but I did not care. Diana elbowed her, and whispered something. Anne turned and glared at me for a second before turning so her back was to me. I flicked some pieces of paper at her to try and get her attention. But she turned her pretty little nose up at me. My pride got the best of me and I sneered, "Hey Carrots," as I tugged at one of her pigtails. She whirled from her seat and stood looming beside me.

"How dare you!" she screamed, and I could see the pure hatred in her eyes and hear it in her voice. And yet the way her eyes flashed green and the color rose in her cheeks, I could not help but notice how beautiful she was. I was uttered speechless as she smashed a slate over my head.

"Anne Shirley!" Mr. Phillips chose that moment to turn around. He soon came up behind her.

"Sir. . .it was my fault. . ." I faltered. But I was ignored.

"I do not tolerate such behavior in my classroom!"

"Oh, but I suppose you tolerate teasing and hair pulling," she retorted.

"Young lady! Watch your tone!"

"Gilbert how could you?" Diana whispered to me.

"I. . ." I couldn't answer, so I covered my face in defeat. How could I? She was right.

When school was over I waited for Anne at the front door. She never even casted me a glance. However, not one to take a hint I followed her saying endless apologies. She did not listen.

I went home that afternoon a lovesick boy.

"How was school today?" my mother greeted me.

"Horrible. I met the new girl today and then I teased her and she got in trouble and now she hates me."

"Oh Gilbert, you're too young to worry about something like this." I rubbed my face in frustration.

"I knew you were going to say that, Mom."

"Sorry. So, who is the girl?"

"Anne Shirley."

"Anne Shirley? I don't recognize that name."

"She's the orphan the Cuthberts adopted."

"Cuthbert," my mom said quietly, almost as though the name saddened her. "What's she like?" I could not help but wonder what it was that my mother was hiding from me. What was it about the Cuthberts she didn't like?

"She's kind of "cute" I guess. She has red hair, grey-green eyes, pale skin and freckles. She's very smart and determined. She makes all the other girls look like they are over dressed. She doesn't beg for my attention like the other girls, flittering her eyelashes at me. Unfortunately, she doesn't want to be my friend at all. I'd prefer if she wanted to be friends with me because she liked me, and not just my looks. However, she won't even do that. Mom, why won't she be my friend?"

"As a person, I think you are wonderful and everyone should want to be your friend. However, you did admit to teasing her and getting her in trouble. She may have taken your teasing as insult."

"I didn't know she was that sensitive about her hair! How I wish I had never said anything about it to her!"

"Give it time. She may come around and forgive you."

"No, she'll hate me forever!" I said dramatically. No, I did not believe that. Well, maybe I did. But I was so desperate to be her friend, that I could not control what I said or how I acted.

"Gilbert!" my mother warned.

"I know, I'm sorry Mom. It's just that. . .I don't know." I was afraid to say what I was thinking. Afraid that if I were to vocalize my words, it would seem ridiculous. I was 16. I could not possibly like her... Like like her. . .could I?

"Why don't you go help your father paint that fence outside? It will help take your mind off of the girl." I sighed as I stood up and headed outside. When I got outside, my father headed to the barn to go and grab me a brush and another can of paint. As I waited, fate would bring her past my yard. She did not even turn to acknowledge me, but as it was, my throat was so dry, I would not have been able to respond if she had. I did all I could to prevent myself from out and out staring at her. The blue dress she wore complimented her hair and figure.

"Would you like a bowl for that drool?" I looked up startled. "What?" I said in confusion. My father laughed. "I only meant it as an expression. You must really like her. I've never seen you like this."

"I can't help it. Have you seen her?"

"I can't say I was ever much for red hair. But. . .I do think I know how you feel."

"Hey Dad, what does Mom not like about the Cuthberts?" My father cleared his throat nervously.

"Let's get to painting this fence." He said with a crack in his voice.


End file.
